


Childhood Memories

by Katzedecimal



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Assault, Blood and Injury, Crowley is also soft, Emotional Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Nanny Crowley (Good Omens), Sexual Harassment, Snake Cuddles, Therapy Mention, Violence, childhood neglect, judging by appearance, red-bellied black snake, warnings will increase with each chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-07-24 00:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20017567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzedecimal/pseuds/Katzedecimal
Summary: Fourteen years after the last time he saw them, Warlock Dowling remembers moments with his nanny and gardener, and the lasting ways they impacted his life.





	1. Never Try To Outstare A Snake

_Warlock Dowling was out wandering the shops in Islington with his fiance. They had just celebrated their joint twenty-fifth birthdays and were looking at letting a flat together. They were browsing in a second-hand bookshop and Warlock had found several books by authors his beloved enjoyed the most. He picked them up and turned around. Realizing he was now in the children’s section, he moved to walk back up the aisle, when a book caught his eye. He picked it up and smiled at it. This book was where it all began. This book was where he finally started to understand reading._

Eight-years-old Warlock had finished his homework early and left his room to find Nanny but she wasn’t in her usual spaces. That didn’t surprise him – occasionally Nanny went out for walks by herself. He supposed she needed a break from all the people being mean to her. Warlock didn’t understand why people had to be mean to his Nanny. So she was different, so what? She wasn’t weird, she was just Goth. Nanny frequently took her walks out in the gardens, so that was where Warlock went. 

Besides, if he didn’t find Nanny, he might run into Brother Francis. Brother Francis was the reason their house had the best garden in the area. Warlock didn’t have to worry about bothering Brother Francis. Brother Francis loved him. Brother Francis loved everybody.

He found Brother Francis in the gardening shed, doing inventory on a shipment of bulbs. He was dressed in his usual dirt-dusted smock, with a long black and red scarf. The scarf moved and Warlock realized it wasn’t a scarf but a snake! That wasn’t unusual; Brother Francis didn’t just love everybody, he loved everything, and everything loved him. He was often surrounded by various animals and birds. The snake’s head appeared over Brother Francis’s shoulder, its unblinking yellow eyes staring at Warlock, its tongue flickering. It nudged Brother Francis under the ear. He looked up and smiled at the boy, “Well, good evening, young Warlock! What brings you around today?”

Warlock couldn’t help but smile back – Brother Francis’s good moods were infectious. “Just looking for Nanny Ash. Have you seen her?”

“As a matter of fact, I saw her not very long ago,” Brother Francis confirmed, “She said she needed some air.”

Warlock nodded; that was what he’d figured. “Is that your snake?”

“No indeed, she’s her own snake,” Brother Francis chuckled, reaching up to caress the reptile gently. It slithered down his shoulder into his hands, “She comes and goes as she pleases.”

“What kind of snake is it?”

“Our lovely sister is a red-bellied black snake,” Brother Francis smiled. 

“Is she dangerous?”

“Oh yes, very,” Brother Francis said, caressing the snake’s head, “Her venom is quite nasty indeed.”

“Could she kill someone?”

“If she put her mind to it, yes. She’s quite capable.”

“Aren’t you afraid she’ll bite you?” Warlock eyed the snake warily. It eyed him back, rather more effectively. 

“Not at all,” Brother Francis chuckled, “She knows me and knows I bear her no ill will. She can be quite charming if you take the time to get to know her. Very few people do.” 

Sister black snake was starting to lean out towards Warlock, her muscular body stretching out over the span of air between them. “Will she bite me?”

“Not if you do nothing foolish. Put your hands out and let her cross to you.”

Warlock did as he was told, holding stock still as the snake reached his hands and slid across his palms. Her scales flexed and pinched a little, tickling as she climbed slowly up his arms. “Is she gonna strangle me?”

Brother Francis laughed again, “No, my dear boy, she’s not a constrictor. Just treat her with respect and she’ll have no cause to harm you.”

The snake eased slowly up to Warlock’s shoulder, scales tickling as she oozed around the back of his neck. She settled briefly with her head just under his jaw, flickering her tongue. “That tickles!”

“That’s how she scents the air,” Brother Francis explained, “Snakes smell with their tongues and some rather complicated organs in their mouths. Quite an interesting design, really.”

“How come she doesn’t blink?”

“Snakes have no eyelids! Never try to outstare a snake, they’ll win every time,” Brother Francis winked. Warlock laughed. The snake slid down Warlock’s other arm and coiled around his hands. “Did you finish your homework, then?”

“Kinda,” Warlock sighed, “It was just math. Math is easy.”

Brother Francis tipped his head knowingly, “But…?”

Warlock sighed in defeat and brought out a book, “I’m supposed to read this chapter and then write a paper about it by Friday, but I just...”

Brother Francis nodded. Warlock had some trouble with reading comprehension. He knew the words but he couldn’t figure out what they were trying to tell him. Mummy and Daddy didn’t have the patience to help him but Nanny Ash had suggested he ask Brother Francis for help. “Well then, lad, why don’t you read to us and I’ll help you with the hard bits?”

“Okay,” Warlock said, relieved. He meant to hand sister black snake back but she was already sliding off his hands and stretching towards Brother Francis, who opened his hands to receive her. Gently he gathered her close, gazing lovingly at her as she climbed his arm. She looped herself around his shoulders, gliding her head beneath his chin like a cat bunting, “She really likes you!”

“Yes, I believe she’s quite fond of me,” Brother Francis said, gently stroking the snake as she settled beneath his ear, “And I am very fond of her.”

“Is she your favourite?”

“She is,” Brother Francis said simply. 

Warlock just nodded then opened his book. Brother Francis settled back in his chair. His hands drifted up to caress the snake, which was coiling the bulk of her black body in his arms. “It looks like she’s cuddling you,” he said. 

Brother Francis nodded, “It helps her to stay warm. Snakes like heat and I have plenty to share. She stays nice and cosy, snuggled up like this.”

Warlock nodded again then started to read. Brother Francis listened, asking questions that helped Warlock understand what the sentences and paragraphs were saying, helping him to form them into meaning. He was so patient and gentle that Warlock was able to work through several chapters more than he’d been assigned, helping him to understand the book. 

Intent on his reading, Warlock didn’t notice that the sun was getting low in the sky. Aziraphale glanced at it, then at Crowley. Reluctantly, she left her cosy nest in Aziraphale’s arms and slipped down to the floor, slithering out of the shed though a hole in the base. Aziraphale watched as a shadow rapidly lengthened over the window. A few moments later, there came a soft tap at the door and Nanny Ashtoreth peeked in. “Ah, here you are. I should have looked here, first.”

“Nanny!” Warlock set his book down then jumped up to hug her tightly. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” she said easily and stroked her fingers through his hair, “It’s nearly supper.”

“I finished my math homework but you were gone so I came here and Brother Francis helped me with my reading homework. I think I can write my paper now.”

“Good.”

No longer needing to be prompted, Warlock ran over to hug Brother Francis tightly, “Thank you for helping me, Brother Francis. Can I come visit you again tomorrow?”

“If Nanny Ashtoreth says it’s alright,” Brother Francis smiled and Warlock grinned. For all that Nanny Ash cautioned him not to listen to Brother Francis, she never, ever told him to stay away.

_Of course, many years later, he had learned that red-bellied black snakes were from Australia, not England, which meant that sister black snake was almost certainly somebody’s escaped pet, if not Brother Francis’s. He smiled, thumbing through the book. Once he’d got the hang of it, Brother Francis had given him many more books to read, increasingly complex until Warlock was reading well above his grade level’s expectations. He put the book back on the shelf._

_Then changed his mind and picked it up again. There’d be more times when he needed some happy memories, after all._


	2. Tough As Nails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While out shopping with his fiance, Warlock remembers a time when he learned one of Nanny Ashtoreth's secrets, and just how deep his bond with her really went.

_”What do you think, Lock? This set is on sale.”_

_Warlock looked at the set of glass baking dishes and shuddered._

During his tenth year, Warlock had developed an interest in learning how things were made. He knew that Mrs. Flagherty, the cook, baked all of their household’s bread and he wanted to know how it was done, so he begged his Nanny to let him watch. Nanny had warned him that it was a rather boring process involving a lot of waiting for dough to rise, but Warlock was still interested nevertheless.

Mrs. Flagherty was taking her day off on that bread day, but had left her young assistant in charge of the task. It went simply enough and the girl had given Warlock a section of the dough to knead and turn into his own small loaf of bread. He was surprised by how much strength it took to knead the dough once it developed its gluten. He filled the hours of waiting by asking lots of questions, about bread and wheat and gluten and baking and the whole time Nanny Ashtoreth sat at the far side of the large kitchen, sipping her tea that never seemed to grow cold.

Eventually it was time to bake the loaves in a fiery oven, with a pan of water on the bottom rack to make steam to help the crusts. Unknown to either of them, the young assistant had used a glass pan instead of a metal one. She took it out of the hot oven, poured the water into the pan then turned to get the loaves. That was when Warlock heard a strange sound and wandered over to see what was making it. 

Nanny Ashtoreth heard it too and knew what it was, and knew she had a only a second at best. She shot across the room faster than any human should be able to move and shoved Warlock out of the way just as the hot glass yielded to thermal shock and exploded.

Warlock sat up and brushed the crumbs off of himself. “Ow,” he said, picking out a few bits that had dug in and scowling at the pinpricks of blood. He would need a couple of plasters. “Nanny…” he looked up and gasped.

Nanny was covered in glass. The explosion had buried several large shards in her body and smaller shards had embedded in her arms and face. Her tweed clothes were rapidly growing damp and shiny with what Warlock was almost certain had to be blood. “Warlock,” Nanny’s voice was shaky, “Go and get Brother Francis, _quickly._ ” Warlock was out the door before she’d finished speaking.

“Brother Francis! **Brother Francis!** ”

Brother Francis looked up from the begonias he’d been tending to see Warlock racing across the lawn and screaming at the tops of his lungs, in an obvious panic. “What’s happened?”

“It’s Nanny Ash, she’s hurt real bad, you gotta come!”

Francis shoved himself to his feet, “Lead the way. What happened to her?”

“We were in the kitchen and the baking pan exploded and it got Nanny!”

“Got you too, it looks like.”

“Only a little. Nanny pushed me out of the way.”

The kitchen was a nightmare. There were glass shards on every surface and smears of black blood on the oven and floor. The young assistant stood frozen in place beside the counter, still reaching for the loaves. They found Nanny Ashtoreth collapsed against the cupboards, clutching her abdomen. Francis knelt beside her and took her hand, slick with black blood. “Coraline?” he said softly, “Coraline, I’m here. Can you hear me?”

“Angel?” Nanny’s voice was weak and tight with pain, “Help me… Please?”

“As if I ever wouldn’t,” Brother Francis assured her gently, “Can you uncurl a bit? I need to lift you onto the counter island to get enough light.” He pulled a rag from a pocket of his smock and handed it to Warlock, “Warlock, wipe the counter island off, will you? And get a towel for her head. Fold it up into a pillow, please.” Warlock did as he was told. He watched anxiously as Brother Francis scooped Nanny into his arms and she cried out as she was lifted. He laid her gently on the counter and Warlock shoved the towel pillow under her head as she was set down.

“Good,” Brother Francis said. He took a pair of scissors out of his pocket and glanced at Warlock again, “Get a bowl of water and a cloth. We need to clean the blood away so I can see where the glass is.” Again Warlock rushed to do as he was told, while Brother Francis clipped away at Nanny’s clothes, peeling them back and exposing the bloody wounds. 

There were a lot of big shards buried in Nanny’s abdomen. Warlock swallowed. “Is she gonna be okay?” he whispered.

“She’s going into shock,” Brother Francis said. He knew shock could be fatal to humans but he didn’t know what it would do to demons. “She needs you right now, Warlock. You need to keep her calm and focused while I work on this.”

“W- what do I do?”

“Just talk to her. Hold her hand, tell her stories. You learned a few new stories recently, didn’t you?”

“Um, okay,” Warlock said nervously. Normally Nanny would read him stories but he didn’t have any stories to read. He started to talk about the new book they were reading in school that had a magic wardrobe in it and a lion. He felt Nanny’s fingers curl slowly around his own. Nanny's breathing was fast and shallow and her skin was cool. Brother Francis finished clearing away the blood and took a long pair of thin forceps out of his pocket. Warlock tried to keep his voice steady while Brother Francis took hold of one of the shards and pulled. Nanny’s face twisted as Brother Francis extracted a long long shard of glass that had gone very deeply into her belly, and threw it into the bowl. He murmured reassurances and Warlock kept talking. 

It seemed to take ages while Brother Francis worked slowly up Nanny’s body, pulling out sliver after sliver after sliver, pressing his hand gently to each wound after every extraction. Glass filled the bowl. He made his way up to Nanny’s face, extracting slivers from her cheek and lips. He passed his hand over her skin so gently, it was almost a caress. He shook his head, “My dear, there’s at least one shard in your eye. I can’t reach it any other way.” Nanny swallowed and dipped her chin once, and Brother Francis lifted his hands to her face and gently drew away Nanny’s ever-present sunglasses.

Warlock had never seen her without them, ever. No matter how dark it was, Nanny always had them on, even when they were alone. Now Brother Francis had drawn them away and was clearing the blood so he could see the damage. “I won’t be able to do this with one hand. Warlock, I need you to hold her eyelids open so that I can get that shard. She will flinch and I need to hold her down.”

“O-okay,” Warlock said and moved nearer to Nanny’s head. As gently as he could, he placed his hands on her eye and pried it open. The shard glittered in the light, just above Nanny’s golden iris. 

Yellow eyes. Nanny had yellow eyes.

“Look down, my dear.” Quick as a snake, Brother Francis snatched the shard out and placed his hand over her eye. Then he took a bottle of saline solution out of his pocket and carefully rinsed her eye. “You can let go now,” he said, “Well done. We’ll do the other eye next.”

Warlock nodded and shifted his hands, “Okay.”

The second shard was caught between the eye and eyelid. It hadn’t embedded but it was scratching Nanny’s cornea something fierce, turning it black with inflammation and blood. The yellow iris stood out startlingly against it. Brother Francis lifted the shard out with his forceps then flushed the eye with saline and pressed his hand over it, allowing Warlock to let go.

“I think I’ve got everything,” Brother Francis said. He passed his hands slowly back down Nanny’s body. He appeared to be listening to them. “Yes, I think that’s got it. Warlock, run to Nanny’s chamber and get her robe and a fresh change of clothes, will you? There’s a lad.” He waited until Warlock had run down the hall then looked back at Crowley, “Right. Just another tick, my dear.” He closed his eyes and miraculously healed Crowley’s wounds.

“Thanks,” Crowley said, sitting up slowly, “I don’t actually have a change of clothes.”

“Well obviously you do because he’ll find them,” Aziraphale smiled, “The boy is fine, just a few scratches. I’ll take care of the mess.”

“Nanny!” Warlock rushed forward with relief, shoving a bundle of clothes at her. Nanny took them and slid off the counter, turning her back while she put the robe on, then reached for her sunglasses and slid them back onto her face.

“Your Nanny is a remarkably tough and resilient woman. She’ll be right as rain with a cup of tea and a little rest,” Brother Francis said, “Why don’t you help her to her chamber? You’ll have to guide her because she won’t be able to see very well for a little while. I’ll clean up here. You can spend the rest of the day with me.”

Warlock nodded then reached out to hug him tightly. “Thank you, Brother Francis,” he said earnestly. He turned and took Nanny Ashtoreth’s hand, watching her anxiously. 

When they reached Nanny’s room, Warlock stood at the door, twisting his hands while she gingerly sat down on her bed. “I want to give you a hug but I don’t want to hurt you more,” he blurted.

Nanny smiled a little at that, “Gently, then. I’m still sore.”

Warlock came over and embraced her with such exaggerated care that she smiled again. “Nanny?” he whispered, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“What’s that, dear?”

Warlock leaned close, put his mouth right next to Nanny’s ear, and whispered so softly it was nearly inaudible, “I think your eyes are really pretty.”

“You think so, do you.”

He nodded, “I’ve never seen anyone with yellow eyes before.”

“Are y’not scared of them?” Warlock shook his head. “Most people are.”

“Is that why you wear your sunglasses?”

“That’s right.”

“Then they’re being silly,” Warlock decided, then whispered, “But I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good lad,” Nanny said. She swallowed. “Thank you for what you did. You did very well. Tell Brother Francis he can take you out for ice cream if you like.”

Warlock just nodded, “I love you, Nanny Ash. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Love you too, little hellspawn,” Nanny smiled, “Off you trot then.”

_Brother Francis had told him later that if that sort of thing happened to a human, he should call 999, but anything to do with Nanny Ashtoreth, Warlock should always come to him first. Funny thing to say. He never saw that assistant again after that, either. Wonder what happened to her…_

_”Lock? You okay?”_

_”Yeah… Just remembering the time I saw one of those explode and hit my Nanny.”_

_”What, seriously?! I thought that was just a myth! Was she okay?”_

_”Eventually.”_

_”Shit! Yeah, okay, hon, let’s get these metal pans instead.”_

_Funny, it had never really occurred to Warlock until now, to wonder why Nanny Ash’s blood was black instead of red, or why she had golden yellow eyes. What stood out, what he remembered so strongly after all these fourteen years, was the way she had placed her complete trust in him._

_And the way she had called Brother Francis ‘Angel.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a net-buddy's recent bread explosion, same cause. That one exploded in the oven with the door closed. No one was hurt but the bread was a total loss.


	3. Walking Her Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of the staff were mean to Nanny Ashtoreth but many of the men were outright rude, especially some of Daddy’s friends (whenever he was actually in England, that is…) It wasn’t just Nanny, they were rude to a lot of the ladies who worked at the estate, especially the nurse and some of the maids. But they were especially rude to Nanny Ash because she was different.

_Warlock waded in through the screaming bar crowd to where the drunken men were shouting with their fists raised and taking pot shots at each other. First blood had already been shed but they weren’t backing down. Another rain of blows were exchanged then Warlock and the other bouncer reached them and separated them._

_”Come on,” Warlock said to the man he was holding, “That’s enough for tonight, right? Time for you to leave.”_

_The man’s response was a stream of slurred curses directed at Warlock’s weight, assumed sexuality, parentage, and probably some other things that were unintelligible. Warlock sighed. The man lunged at him._

A lot of the staff were mean to Nanny Ashtoreth but many of the men were outright rude, especially some of Daddy’s friends (whenever he was actually in England, that is…) It wasn’t just Nanny, they were rude to a lot of the ladies who worked at the estate, especially the nurse and some of the maids. But they were especially rude to Nanny Ash because she was different. 

They complained about the clothes she wore. They complained that she walked like she was on her way to murder a superhero. They complained because she didn’t get out of their way. And they complained that she didn’t smile. That last was particularly irritating. Warlock agreed with Brother Francis – a person’s face was their own and nobody should have the right to **order** someone to smile if they didn’t feel like smiling. Besides, Nanny did smile. She smiled at Warlock (if she found him amusing or if he’d done something that had gained her approval or pride), she smiled at Brother Francis (just the smallest curve of her lips but her whole face softened into something fond and tender), and she smiled when something bad was about to happen to someone who deserved it.

Right now, she wasn’t smiling. She **had** been coming out to the garden but one of Daddy’s friends had followed her. Nine-years-old Warlock didn’t like the man, he was particularly irritating to the staff and he made Warlock feel like a snail, all slimy and small. He’d been bothering Nanny a lot lately and following her around in a way that made Warlock uncomfortable. Now he was following her out onto the lawn. Warlock couldn’t hear what they were saying from this far away but it was clear that Nanny was getting fed up. 

Then the man touched her on the back of her skirt and Nanny

Smiled.

She span around and caught him in the kidney with a roundhouse kick that should have torn her skirt. Then she punched him several times, her hands moving faster than humanly possible. She seized his arm and dragged him close, clutched his head and span him around before throwing him onto his back. Then she placed her heel on his chest and _ground._

The man’s scream echoed across the lawn.

Brother Francis, leaning on his spade and watching from the garden shed on the far side of the garden, twitched his fingers and commented, “That’s a good spot to remember, it’s useful in first aid. If someone’s down and out and you’re not sure if they’ve just fainted or if they’re unconscious and need emergency medical attention, you can twist your knuckle into that spot. It hurts like blazes, so if they’re just stunned, it’ll rouse them up in no time.” Warlock just nodded. Brother Francis tsked, “Well, he got what he deserved. That’s not a way to treat someone. Certainly not a way to court someone.”

Warlock looked up at him, “Why do they do it? It’s mean.”

“Yes it is,” Brother Francis nodded, “It’s a way of bullying. They aren’t actually trying to court her. They want to intimidate her. They want her to be afraid.” They watched as Nanny shoved the man off her foot with superhuman strength, sending him skating across the ground on his back for nearly twenty metres. Brother Francis grinned, “Backfired, didn’t it?”

Warlock grinned too, “Now they’re afraid of Nanny!”

_Warlock smiled. He caught the man’s hand and pulled him forward, catching his head and spinning him around before throwing him onto his back. He put his foot on the man’s chest and **ground**. The man’s scream echoed through the bar. “Yeah, he’s conscious,” Lock called towards the bartender, “Get the police for this one. Shouldn’t need ambulance.” He looked back at the man pinned writhing under his heel, “And you – don’t ever show your face around here again.”_


	4. Listen To Nanny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t think Daddy loves me very much,” Warlock said in a voice just as soft. He sighed and leaned against Nanny Ash. “And Mummy just ignores me until I do something the wrong way. Sometimes I think they only had me so they could check off a box on their bucket list.”

_Warlock picked up a carton of eggs and flipped it open._

_”Yeah those are eggs, alright,” his fiance drawled._

_Lock grinned at him, “I’m checking for cracks. Nanny taught me when I was, oh, around ten, almost eleven, I guess.”_

“Did you listen to The Cure when you were young?” Warlock asked. 

“Listened to all kinds of music,” Nanny Ashtoreth replied, “Why d’ye ask?”

“The Cure and Boohoos and stuff?”

“D’ye mean Bauhaus?”

“Yeah. That’s what Goths listened to when you were a kid, right?”

This brought the slight curve of a smile to Nanny’s lips, “I suppose so. Are ye interested in classic Goth music, then?”

Warlock shrugged, “I dunno. Some of the kids think you’re weird but Jamie says you’re just Goth.”

Nanny’s smile curved even more, “Well… You’re not wrong.”

They were walking home from the shop after buying some groceries, which might have been a little odd, since they had a cook, but Nanny Ash insisted that Warlock learn how to cook and care for himself. “And Brother Francis is hopepunk.”

Nanny barked out a laugh, “He is, is he? And what’s hopepunk, then?”

“It’s the opposite of grimdark,” Warlock said. He closed his eyes and recited, “’Hopepunk says that kindness and softness doesn’t equal weakness, and that in this world of brutal sillysism and nylonism, being kind is a political act, an act of rebellion.’ What’s nylonism mean?”

Nanny was smiling one of her oh-so-rare full smiles and actually laughed, “And where’d y’read that? Have y’been visiting that blue hellsite after I told y’not to?”

“…yes…”

“Good.” Nanny wiped her eyes under her ever-present sunglasses and shook her head, “Aye, I can’t argue, that’s Francis for sure. ‘Hopepunk’, what’ll they think up next?”

Warlock grinned, “I like Brother Francis. He loves me.”

“Mm-hmm, that he does. Mind you, he loves everybody.”

“Except Daddy,” Warlock said, testing the waters. As he expected, Nanny didn’t respond. He glanced up at her but her gaze was focused on the manor house at the end of the road. But the line of her jaw told him she was thinking.

They reached the house and stopped at the kitchen to put away the shopping, then returned to Warlock’s nursery rooms. Once she was certain they were alone, Nanny sat down next to him and offered a hug. He nodded and she put her arm around him, and asked in a soft voice, “Where’s this coming from, Warlock?”

“I don’t think Daddy loves me very much,” he said in a voice just as soft. He sighed and leaned against her. “And Mummy just ignores me until I do something the wrong way. Sometimes I think they only had me so they could check off a box on their bucket list.”

“We’re ten going on forty-five today, are we?”

Warlock smiled. “That’s what I like about you, Nanny. You and Brother Francis,” he said in a surprisingly adult voice, “If I say this stuff to anyone else, they go all frantic telling me I’m wrong and stuff. You just… don’t. It’s like you see it too but I know you’re not allowed to say anything.”

Nanny looked sad. She never took off her sunglasses but Warlock had learned to read the tiny changes around her temples, cheeks and lips that told him her expressions. “Aye, well,” she sighed, “Things don’t always go as planned.” 

And Warlock knew then that he was right. “Is that why you want me to know how to shop and stuff?”

Nanny sighed heavily and stroked her fingers through Warlock’s hair. “I’ve been alive a long time. I’ve seen a lot of parents,” she said softly, “If things don’t go as planned…. Well, it’s my job to see that you can make your own plan.”

Warlock smiled with relief, though he felt the pressure of tears. He reached out and hugged Nanny tightly. “I’m glad you love me,” he whispered, “You and Brother Francis.”

Nanny hugged him and kissed the top of his head. “I’m glad y’can tell.”

_”Nah, Mummy never taught me that stuff. I think she thought I’d leave it all up to my wife,” his fiance laughed, “That did not go according to plan!”_

_”Your mum is great,” Lock smiled._

_”Well… technically she’s your mum, too. I mean, she’s your bio mum.”_

_Lock nodded, “Yeah but people get all weird about that. At least your parents took it well.”_

_”Have you told yours?”_

_Lock shook his head, “I don’t want them to know.”_


	5. Getting Children To Eat, The Ashtoreth Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Children are supposed to eat sweets and ice cream, **not** cauliflower with cheese sauce. Cauliflower with cheese sauce is strictly for adults.”

“No,” Nanny Ashtoreth said, “That’s not for you.”

Five-and-a-half-years-old Warlock dragged the glass back. “It’s milk!”

“Milk is for grown-ups, not for little children,” Nanny said primly as she pulled the glass back again.

“Is not!” Warlock said in frustration. He grabbed it again and pulled it out of her reach. 

Nanny sighed, “Oh very well, just this once. But you can’t have any cauliflower.”

Warlock put his milk down, indignant. “Why nottttt?” he whined.

“Children are supposed to eat sweets and ice cream, **not** cauliflower with cheese sauce. Cauliflower with cheese sauce is strictly for adults.”

“But what if I **like** cheese sauce?”

But Nanny Ash shook her head, “Too bad. You can’t have **any** cauliflower until you’re sixteen.”

“Nan-NYYYYYYY!”

Nanny tipped her head at him, “You reeeeally want the cauliflower?”

“Yes!!”

She glanced around to make sure no one was listening at the nursery doors or windows, then leaned in close and whispered, “And what’re y’willing to do for it?”

Warlock thought hard. “I could put my toys away and make so-so-lies with Aunt Maggie?” Warlock didn’t like Aunt Maggie, who pinched his cheeks and hugged him without asking first and he always got in trouble for telling the truth when he answered her questions. Nanny had been teaching him about “so-so-lies-ation,” which meant the art of lying to get along in society. Brother Francis didn’t like lying but had to admit Nanny was right to teach it to Warlock as a social skill.

“Hmmm,” Nanny made a great show of pondering the offering, “Oh alright… I **suppose** that’s worthy of cheese sauce.” She obligingly dished up some of the coveted cauliflower (scooping extra cheese sauce onto it) and, with obvious reluctance, handed it to him. Warlock grinned in triumph and immediately started wolfing it down.

_” **How** long did it take you to figure out that she was snowing you?” Adam laughed._

_”Longer than it should have, let’s put it that way,” Warlock chuckled, “And Brother Francis was even worse!”_

It wasn’t often they had lunch with Brother Francis at his cottage at the bottom of the garden. This was partly because Brother Francis and Nanny Ashtoreth seemed to have a sort of like/dislike thing going on, but mostly because Brother Francis kept stealing Warlock’s food.

“Brother Fraaaan-cis!! That’s MY milk!”

And Brother Francis would look surprised, “Is it? Oh goodness me, I must have mixed it up with mine. So sorry!”

“That’s a grown-up drink anyways,” Nanny Ash said, lips twitching a little, “Y’shouldn’t let him have it.”

“Oh there’s no harm in a little treat now and then,” Brother Francis winked. Then he stared out the window behind them, “Oh, what’s that?”

Warlock whipped around and Nanny obediently turned her head. They turned back just in time to see a couple of green beans disappearing from Warlock’s plate to their final fate.

“Brother Fraaaaan- **CIS!** ” Warlock turned to beseech his Nanny, “Nanny, make him stop!”

Nanny’s sunglasses hid her eyes but Warlock was learning to read her face and right now her face was doing that… thing, where all its muscles were shifting in interesting ways. “Well I would, but I have to catch him out first, don’t I?”

_”I figured I had to snarf all my lunch before he could steal it,” Warlock laughed, “Of course, ages later I realized that the ‘thing’ her face was doing was trying not to burst out laughing and giving the whole jig away. And yes, I took longer than I should have to notice that Brother Francis never mixed up with Nanny Ash’s plate.”_

_”Nooo!” Adam mock-gasped, then laughed._

_”When I was older, she told me to pretend the meatloaf was the remains of my enemies I’d ground under my heel and prepared for me to devour,” Warlock reminisced, “There were a couple of teachers I loathed, I went to town on that meatloaf.” Adam lost it laughing. “That meatloaf was **gone,** man.”_

_”Oh man,” Adam gasped, wiping his eyes, “My da just told me it was toxic waste and would give me superpowers.”_

_”Ohh! That’s a good one, too!”_

_”Yeah! Until one day I asked him why he and Mummy didn’t have superpowers, I mean they ate the stuff too, right? Then he looked at me like _this_ and said ‘What makes you so sure?’”_

_”Haha!! That’s brilliant,” Warlock took a sip of his pop then grinned, “Actually there was once that Brother Francis stole from Nanny Ash. It was my tenth birthday and my parents were away on another business trip, so we all went to the cinema.”_

Nanny stopped mid-sentence and stared at Brother Francis. “Excuse me? D’ye mind keeping your grubby mitts out of my popcorn?” she said and her Scottish brogue was just made for that kind of indignation.

Brother Francis’s eyes sparkled as he chewed, “Oh sorry, thought it was mine. Must have got it mixed up.”

“Y’had to reach right across Warlock to ‘mix it up,’” Nanny huffed. She sat back in her seat only snap back up again when Francis reached across to steal another handful, “Y’ve got your own! This one’s mine!”

“Always did prefer sweet.”

“Then why didn’t y’get sweet, ye flippin’ were-turnip!”

_”’ **Flipping were-turnip** ’, oh my god!!”_

_”I swear to God that’s what she said!”_

Which is when Warlock sneaked a handful of sweet popcorn too. He could **feel** the outrage pouring off of Nanny. “ **What** is this cheek?!”

Warlock thought desperately, “Ummm… Isn’t this what you’ve always told me to do?”

“Oh really? Oh really? And where in ‘destroy the earth’, ‘crush your enemies beneath your heel’ and ‘demolish all that stands in your way’ does it include ‘steal Nanny’s sweet popcorn at the cinema’?”

“Ummmm…” Warlock was trying to hold in his grin but even Brother Francis was laughing.

“Oh, now you’re both in trouble,” Nanny hissed, “That’s it, I’m cursing both of you. I’m rainin’ hellfire down upon both your houses. Your chip-and-pin cards’ll never work again. It’s constant holes in the seams of your raincoats for both of you.”

_”She was right about the raincoats,” Warlock giggled, “We ate all of her popcorn, too. She didn’t try to stop us, she just sat there and muttered ridiculous curses at us.” Warlock took another sip of his pop and smiled, “That was when I figured out that those two actually liked each other.”_

_Adam nodded sagely, “Stealing your friend’s cinema popcorn implies a certain level of intimacy.”_

_” **You’d** know,” Warlock grinned._

_Adam reached across to steal a handful of Warlock’s, “Sure would!”_


	6. Attractive =/= Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brother Francis chuckled again, “It’s tricky, isn’t it? This is what your Nanny meant. Your whole life, people will tell you that good is beautiful and beautiful is good.”
> 
> “And you’re…” Warlock stopped again. “You’re good…” he trailed off, turning red. 
> 
> Brother Francis smiled. “I’m also well aware of what people say about me,” he said, as if that had been the point all along.

_Warlock and his fiancé lay on the couch together, wrapped up in each other’s arms and **The Wizard of Oz.**_

_”Only **bad** witches are ugly!” said Glinda, the Good Witch of the North_

_”Glinda’s full of shite,” Warlock muttered._

“And then she says ‘Only bad witches are ugly’ so why did she even bother to ask in the first place ‘cause Dorothy’s pretty?” Brother Francis grinned knowingly at nine-years-old Warlock. “I asked Nanny and we talked a bit and then she grinned at me and said she really wanted to see where I was going with that.”

Brother Francis chuckled, “She’s letting you work that out for yourself. She’s well aware of what other people think of her.”

“They’re mean,” Warlock declared, “Just because she’s not beautiful doesn’t mean…” and he trailed off, frowning, “I mean…”

Brother Francis chuckled again, “It’s tricky, isn’t it? This is what she meant. Your whole life, people will tell you that good is beautiful and beautiful is good.”

“Mr. Geoffries wasn’t good,” Warlock said, “He was handsome but he hurt people.”

“There you go!”

“And you’re…” Warlock stopped again. “You’re good…” he trailed off, turning red. 

Brother Francis smiled. “I’m also well aware of what people say about me,” he said, as if that had been the point all along.

“Nanny likes you,” Warlock blurted. 

“And I’m very fond of her,” Brother Francis replied evenly. 

“Do you think she’s pretty?”

“I think she’s a very attractive person,” Brother Francis tipped his head speculatively and added, “Attractive is not the same as beautiful.”

Warlock sat up, “It isn’t?”

Brother Francis shook his head, “No indeed. Attractive is just that, qualities that attract your attention. They compel fascination and you want to spend time with them.”

Warlock smiled broadly, “Like brother toad! He’s not pretty but he sure is fun to watch!”

“Yes, exactly!” Brother Francis nodded, “And that’s why attraction seldom fades, even though beauty may.”

“Like old people?” Warlock thought, “Like Mr. and Mrs. Taber down the street?” Mr. and Mrs. Taber were in their eighties and had been married since their early twenties. Mr. Taber had lost all of his hair and Mrs. Taber’s hair was white and they both looked like happy apple dolls but they still loved each other so much.

“You’ve got it exactly,” Brother Francis smiled, “Their marriage isn’t based solely on attraction to beauty.”

“Like Mummy and Daddy’s is,” Warlock mused. Brother Francis paused, watching him carefully. Warlock put his chin on his knees, deep in thought. “But there are beautiful things that are good, right?”

Brother Francis relaxed, “Of course! They aren’t dependent on each other.”

Warlock nodded and appeared to have made a decision. He got to his feet and hugged Brother Francis tightly. “Thanks, Brother Francis,” he said and kissed the gardener’s dusty cheek.

He turned and started running across the garden, and didn’t quite register it when Brother Francis said “Well now, what do you make of that?” Warlock bolted across the lawn and into the house, to the parlour where Nanny Ash was just sitting down with a cup of tea. He also didn’t really notice that she looked a bit winded, her cheeks slightly flushed as she brushed a bit of dirt and grass clippings off her shoulder. “Nanny!” Warlock flung himself at her and hugged her tightly. 

“Steady on, the tea’s hot,” she admonished him, sounding surprised, “What’s going on?”

Warlock kept hugging, then he turned to her ear and whispered, “I just needed to tell you I think you’re really pretty like sister black snake is pretty and Glinda’s full of shite.”

And Nanny laughed the longest and hardest that Warlock had ever known.

_”She didn’t even scold me for language,” Warlock grinned._

_Adam was laughing too, “Yeah, okay. Yeah, you’re right. “_


	7. Listen Like Nanny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ”Your childhood was so fuckin’ weird, man,” Adam said gently, combing his fingers through his fiance’s hair, ”I’m surprised you didn’t need therapy!”
> 
> Warlock was silent for a few minutes. “I did,” he said finally, “But not because of Nanny.”

_”Your childhood was so fuckin’ weird, man,” Adam said gently, combing his fingers through his fiance’s hair, ”I’m surprised you didn’t need therapy!”_

_Warlock was silent for a few minutes. “I did,” he said finally, “But not because of Nanny.”_

Nanny Ashtoreth was sitting on the floor at the top of the stairs, completely silent and unmoving. Warlock, sitting equally silent at the door of his room, could just see her. She was listening to the argument between Mummy and Daddy. So was Warlock. 

They argued about everything but most of their arguments boiled down to five topics: 1) Daddy’s constant failure to stay home for more than ten minutes, 2) Mummy’s drinking, 3) Daddy’s affairs, 4) Warlock, and 5) Nanny Ashtoreth. Currently they were arguing about Nanny, whom Daddy repeatedly referred to as “that witch”, along with a number of misogynist and transphobic slurs. 

That hurt Warlock, so logically it must hurt Nanny Ash too. He crept silently out of his room. Nanny didn’t mind him eavesdropping, since she did it herself. It was a good way to collect information you weren’t supposed to have but needed anyways. It gave her insight into the state of the family, told her what directions to steer Warlock into, and how to conduct herself. So she didn’t scold him or even glare at him when he crept silently across the floor and snuggled against her. She had taught him how to be silent and still.

A lot of people thought Nanny Ash was spooky. They thought she was weird. They thought she looked mannish. They thought the things she taught him were bizarre. But she was kind and loving and always encouraged him to conquer whatever lay in his path, be it bullies or homework or broccoli. She always had time for him, always had patience for his questions. Warlock was nearly eleven, and he wondered what his life was going to be like when his parents decided he didn’t need his Nanny anymore. 

Now they were arguing about Warlock. He just… couldn’t seem to meet Daddy’s expectations, no matter how hard he tried. He wasn’t athletic enough or he chose the wrong sport, he wasn’t enough into cars, he wasn’t enough into girls (ew, ick? He was eleven!…almost.) And Mummy… he never seemed to do anything _right_. She never told him **what** he was doing wrong, certainly never told him what to do instead, she just… told him he was wrong. Or rather, yelled it at him. And they didn’t like how attached he was to Nanny. 

Finally Warlock just couldn’t stomach anymore. He lifted his hands fractionally. He’d been using British Sign Language since he was wee, Nanny Ash having decided it was better than shouting across distances. Brother Francis supported it, feeling it would help Warlock appreciate people who were different from him and communicated in different ways. Mummy had been enthusiastic and had learned some rudimentary signs before giving up. Daddy had never bothered to learn at all. So the upshot was, he and Nanny had a secret language. “Do you think Brother Francis will be awake still?” he signed with minimal movements - whispering, in sign language. 

“Yes,” Nanny nodded, her own fingers flashing minimally through the signs, “He’ll be reading. You go ahead, take the fire escape ladder. He’ll understand. I’ll come and fetch you later.” 

Warlock leaned up to kiss her cheek, then silently made his way back to his room. He found the fire escape ladder under his bed and pushed up the window to toss it out. Nanny had taught him how to use it and had done fire drills with him until he could do it when he was barely awake. After all, with Daddy’s position, one never knew when one might need to escape - or why. Making no sound at all, he scaled down the ladder and ran away across the lawn towards the glowing lights of the gardener’s cottage. 

He scratched at the window until Brother Francis looked up from the book he was indeed reading. He got up and opened the door to let Warlock in. “Warlock? What’s up? Where’s your Nanny?”

“She’s listening to Mummy and Daddy. They’re arguing again.”

Brother Francis looked crestfallen, “About you?”

Warlock nodded, “And Nanny. And I guess Daddy’s got another girlfriend.”

Brother Francis tsked and shook his head, “And on a school night, too. Come in then, lad. You can have my bed tonight, I’ll be awake a while yet. How about a cup of warm milk?”

Warlock nodded, relieved, “Yes please. Thank you, Brother Francis. Nanny said she’d come get me later.”

_”It got worse after we moved back to the United States,” Warlock whispered, “And even worse after Dad’s next posting.”_

_”Jesus, I’m sorry,” Adam whispered._

_”I tried to find Brother Francis after I moved back to England,” Lock smiled a little._

_”Not your nanny?”_

_”Well… I was her charge, see? She was paid to care for me but Brother Francis, he was just paid to maintain the gardens. I figured, maybe, if either of them wouldn’t mind talking again… maybe even… staying in touch…”_

_”They sound like great people,” Adam whispered. Tenderly he stroked a fingertip along Lock’s cheekbone, “What do you think they’d think about… us?”_

_Lock smiled widely and leaned up to kiss his fiance, “Well… Brother Francis always told me to love everyone. I guess I took him at his word.”_


	8. Practically Perfect In Every Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the last week before the Dowlings moved back to the USA, taking eleven-year-old Warlock with them. He didn’t want to go but he had no say in the matter. Leaving meant losing the two most important people in his life.

_”Hey babe.”_

_”Hey,” Warlock rolled over to greet his fiancé._

_”Whatcha looking at?”_

_”A picture of Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis. It’s the only one I have,” Warlock turned the phone to show Adam. “Nanny didn’t like having her picture taken so I had to sneak this one and couldn’t get her full face. But she had that expression that I love, that sort of fond-exasperated at the same time.” He sighed, “Her face would just sort of soften. I loved when she looked like that. She looked happier and younger. She only looked like that when we were with Brother Francis.”_

It was the last week before the Dowlings moved back to the USA, taking eleven-year-old Warlock with them. He didn’t want to go but he had no say in the matter. Leaving meant losing the two most important people in his life.

They had been more mother and father to him than his real parents. He was not looking forward to spending his teen years with his alcoholic mother and his perpetually-absent father, not without his nanny and their gardener to help him cope. But the Dowlings were leaving the country and half the people who worked at the estate had been given their notice, including Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis.

Today was their last day. 

Warlock put the final bows on the presents and picked them up. His feet felt as heavy as lead as he walked out of the house towards the garden and the gardener’s cottage. 

”…you lot are anything short of award-winning, _I will know about it_ and there **will** be Consequences!”

Warlock peeked around a hedge to see Nanny Ash straightening up from a rosebush. “Nanny Ash?”

She whirled around, “Oh, Warlock! Hello! What have you got there?”

Warlock fought to keep his voice steady, “Um, I brought you a g-… a present. There’s one for Brother Francis too.”

Brother Francis emerged from the gardener’s cottage with his bags. The cottage within felt empty already, not the cosy and welcoming haven that it was while Brother Francis lived there. “What’s this? A present? For me?”

Warlock nodded and held out one of the gifts and waited for Brother Francis to unwrap it. Inside was a leather bound edition of _The Secret Garden_ by Frances Hodges Burnett. “Um, I think this copy was released around the year you were born,” Warlock swallowed, “You told me your age once and I did the math backwards from there.”

Brother Francis glanced at him and carefully opened the book. It was in very good condition and illustrated. He knew the story well. “This is wonderful, my dear boy,” he said, his voice a bit rougher than usual, “I shall treasure it.”

Warlock nodded, then swallowed hard and handed the other package to Nanny Ashtoreth. “Um… um… I know you don’t wear these but…”

Nanny’s eyebrow flexed curiously, above her ever-present sunglasses. Her package was soft and squishy. Carefully she peeled open the wrapping paper to reveal a neatly folded cloth. She shook it out to find it was a t-shirt.

Silk-screened onto the shirt was a magnificent warrior, clad in Roman-style leather armour. Her hair was black rather than red. She held the lariat of truth in her hands and gazed down at the viewer with an imperious yet protective stare, her face fierce yet somehow open. Across the bottom was writ the name of this warrior: Wonder Woman.

Nanny stared at it in silence for several minutes. Warlock started to worry. “Um, I know you don’t wear t-shirts but… I saw it and I knew I had to get it for you… ‘cause… um…”

Then two tears appeared on Nanny’s cheeks. She clutched the shirt to her as more tears rolled from beneath her glasses. Then she reached out and drew Warlock into a tight hug. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“I love you,” Warlock sobbed, “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“I love you too, little hellspawn,” she whispered, “Never doubt that.”

_”And that was the last time I ever saw them,” Warlock sighed, “I tried looking them up when I moved back to England but I couldn’t find any trace of them.”_

_Adam grinned. ”Y’know what, babe? Let’s go to Soho. I want you to meet my godfathers.”_


	9. Make Nanny Proud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warlock was fourteen when he was kidnapped.

Warlock was fourteen when he was kidnapped. 

School had let out for the day. He grabbed his pack from his locker and slung it over his shoulder. He took out his phone to check for messages as he descended the steps to the pavement. Glancing up, he noticed a sleek black car approaching. That wasn’t unusual. He looked at his phone, thumb gliding over the slick glass, and glanced up again as two men in black suits and sunglasses got out. This also wasn’t unusual. Warlock’s parents often sent Secret Service agents to pick him up at school, so everyone was used to it by now.

Warlock glanced at his phone again. He had several phrases and questions pre-programmed into his phone that he could send with one movement. 

[15:33 Warlock: Did you send a car to pick me up?]

[15:34 Mummy: No, why? Is someone there?]

[15:36 Mummy: Dad says he didn’t send anyone either. Are you alright?]

He quickened his pace, glancing around for a group of kids to join or a family to approach. The men quickened their pace also. 

[15:37 Mummy: Warlock? Are you alright? Answer please]

He spotted the Murphys and angled towards them, walking faster. 

[15:37 Mummy: Warlock? Answer please]

Just as he broke into a run, the men came abreast and he felt a jab in the back of his neck.

**”Assess your situation.”**

Warlock’s eyes snapped open. Nanny Ash? No, he must have imagined it. His head felt stuffed with seven kinds of cotton balls and throbbed and his mouth was dry. He glanced around without moving. He was in a room. It was dark. He was on a couch. His ankles and wrists were bound. 

**”How? Observe.” “Be mindful.”** The voice of Brother Francis had joined the voice of Nanny Ash.

He concentrated, narrowing his attention to the feel of his wrists, feeling where his arms were, what his wrists were bound with, how they were bound, and how tightly. Then he turned his attention to his feet the same way. He thought about his shoes and his position on the couch. Then he glanced around the ceiling above him, the corners, looking for any glints or bubbles of plastic or glass that might indicate if he was being watched. 

**”Now think,”** the voice of Sensei said, **”How will your opponent approach you? Predict their action. Prepare your responses.”**

He was in a basement room. There was a tiny window. Carefully he tipped his chin to get a better look at it. It didn’t appear to have bars. He couldn’t tell if it was locked. He sat up slowly and carefully wiggled his arms down to his butt, trying to work his butt between his wrists enough to loosen the bindings without attracting too much attention. He tried to make it look like he was just itchy, just in case. 

The door opened. “Well look who’s awake. Just in time,” the man said. He carried a gun and was still wearing his sunglasses.

Warlock studied him. He didn’t seem to be very old, actually. “What do you want with me?” he said, “My dad’s an American ambassador, he’s-“

The man’s face was an oily grin, “Yeah, we know. And he’s going to pay handsomely to get your pretty head back.”

Warlock swallowed. The man knelt and cut the bindings on Warlock’s ankles then yanked him to his feet. Why did they bind them in the first place?, he wondered, I was knocked out. He kept his puzzlement off his face as he was dragged to another room, this one with a desk and a webcam. The second man smirked.

**”Observe your surroundings.”**

This room had no windows but had some heavy objects and chairs. Warlock was pushed into one of them and the first man knelt to bind his feet to the legs. 

Warlock jerked his knee up, catching the man in the nose, then kicked hard. He launched himself at the second man, catching him in the solar plexus, then kicked out and rolled, wiggling his arms over his bum and legs to the front of his body. He jumped to his feet, raised his hands and brought them down hard and fast, repeating the action until he snapped the bindings. 

The first man regained his feet and raised the gun. **”How is he holding it?”** said Sensei’s voice. Clearly they had been expecting him to be a frightened child. They hadn’t counted on a child who’d been training in martial arts since he was small, drilled in courage by a ferocious nanny, and taught observation by a kindly old gardener. Warlock brought his arm up to cup the man’s wrist and wove in close, all in one motion, then fluidly brought the man’s arm up, down, and around, loosening his grip on the gun enough for Warlock to knock it from his hand.

**”Destroy your enemies!”**

**”But don’t do any lasting harm!”**

**”Squeeze the trigger, don’t jerk it.”**

The second man collapsed screaming, clutching his thigh and shattered knee. Warlock threw the first man down to the floor.

**”Crush him beneath your heel!”**

Warlock jumped, hard. He ran back to the room where he woke up and shot the window. He kicked the glass out and nerved himself. He couldn’t help but remember Nanny, covered in glass shards and black blood, keeping it together while Brother Francis removed the glass from her body. The glass scraped his clothes and cut his flesh. Then he was out. He took a quick look around and ran. 

Later, he lay on a hospital bed, having his wounds stitched. There were police waiting to take his statements. Mummy was freaking out.

“They **drugged** me, Mummy,” Warlock rolled his eyes, “And I crushed him!”

“You crushed _his ribs!_ ” Mummy cried, “You could have killed him!”

“He was pointing a gun at me!”

“You **shot** the other man!”

“With **his** gun!” Warlock insisted.

“I never liked you handling guns.”

“I was supposed to die instead?!”

“No… No of course not… I’m sure it wouldn’t have come to that…”

Warlock stared at her. “Just let me talk to the police,” he snarled. Harriet Dowling scurried out and he let his head fall to his pillow. He felt tears prickling his eyes. 

Brother Francis hadn’t liked him with guns either. Neither had Nanny, come to that. But they both knew he’d be going back to the United States one day and it was bristling with guns, and he was the son of an American ambassador at a time when America was attracting a lot of unhappy attention. Nanny had known a day like this was coming and seen to it that he was prepared.

Fuck Mummy and Daddy anyways. He’d crushed his enemies. He’d ground them beneath his feet. He’d destroyed their ability to do him harm. Pretty sure even Brother Francis would approve, he thought. And he knew, absolutely knew, deep in his heart, that Nanny Ashtoreth would be proud of him. 

_”Oh, more than just ‘proud,’” Aziraphale said from his chair, not looking up from his book, “He jumped up off the couch, punched the air and shouted ‘Wahoo, that’s my boy.’” He glanced up and smiled over the tops of his reading glasses._

_” **You** stood up and applauded,” Crowley shot back._

_“It was on the international news, you see.”_

_”That is so awesome!” Adam grinned at his fiance._

_”Being on the news wasn’t so great,” Warlock sighed._

_But inside, he was glowing._


	10. Ouroboros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a snake on one of the chairs. “Ohhhhhh!” Warlock breathed in delight, “It’s a red-bellied black snake! She looks just like one Brother Francis had!” The snake raised its head, flicking its tongue to taste the air. “She’s so beautiful!” He let the snake scent his hand then gently stroked its gleaming back, “Hi, beautiful!”

_**Earlier…** _

Warlock wasn’t sure what to expect when his fiancé suggested a trip to Soho but an antique bookshop wasn’t it. Yet Adam walked right up and pushed the door open, despite the obvious “Closed” sign. Warlock shrugged and followed him in then stopped dead when the weird smell hit him. He shook his head and looked around. 

There was a snake on one of the chairs. “Ohhhhhh!” Warlock breathed in delight, “It’s a red-bellied black snake! She looks just like one Brother Francis had!” The snake raised its head, flicking its tongue to taste the air. “She’s so beautiful!” He let the snake scent his hand then gently stroked its gleaming back, “Hi, beautiful!”

Adam grinned, “C’mon, I’ll show you the _Buggre Alle This Bible_. It’s hilarious!”

Warlock straightened up and followed him, “You said your godfathers work here?”

“They live here, upstairs. This is Aziraphale’s shop. Well, I say ‘shop’, it’s more of a library. Aziraphale won’t sell anything if he can get away with it.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause he’s not in it for money.” Adam browsed along a shelf and took out a cloth to pull a book down, then used the cloth to turn the pages, “Here.” Warlock read the indicated passage and burst into laughter. “That’s one of Aziraphale’s prizes. He won’t part with that for love nor money,” Adam explained, “I bet even Crowley couldn’t convince him to give it up, not that he would ever ask him to. But if it went missing, he’d search the world to bring it back for him.” 

Adam put the book back and Warlock looked around the shop again. It was quiet but for the slow tick-tock of an old clock and it smelled weird yet oddly comforting. It had an atmosphere that was familiar but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Adam had explained it, during one of those conversations on things you should know about someone before you ask them to marry you. _“ **Literally**_ the Antichrist,” he had said, _“And I’ve got these two godfathers, one’s a demon and the other’s an angel – no, **literally** a demon and an angel. But the thing is, there was another mum giving birth that night. There was another baby. That was you.”_

He followed Adam through the shop to a back room. It was very cosy, with a couch and chair and a wine rack. His eyes roved over the paintings on the wall and stuck on one frame in particular that held a t-shirt. He felt himself go pale and very confused. 

“Ohhhhh that’s why,” Adam said, catching Warlock’s attention back to the present, “Usually he’s out almost immediately, especially if he’s closed.” Warlock wondered who Adam meant, then realized that the heap of cream laundry he’d initially skimmed over was actually a person hunched motionless over a book. Adam grinned, “But if he’s in a book, he won’t notice us until next Tuesday. That’s Aziraphale.” He looked up and smiled, “Hi Crowley!”

“Hi.”

Warlock turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin. The man in the doorframe had approached so silently but it was his appearance that unnerved Warlock the most. “Hi!” he said nervously and stuck out his hand, “I’m Warlock, I’m Adam’s fiancé.”

The man called Crowley took his hand. “I know,” he said and didn’t let go.

Warlock stared at him, at his rich red hair, sharp jaw, down tipped nose, black clothes and most unnerving of all, his sunglasses. “Sorry, um, this is gonna sound… Um, would you by chance be related to a Coraline Ashtoreth? Because you could be her twin brother!” he blurted. 

The man didn’t move but he _shifted._ Warlock wasn’t sure exactly what had changed but somehow Crowley’s features had become a little bit different. The beard shadow disappeared along with the adam’s-apple, there were small breasts beneath the tailored shirt, his arms had changed somehow, and the narrow hips were a little less narrow. Suddenly Warlock felt a lump in his throat. “Or maybe I **am** Coraline Ashtoreth,” said Nanny Ash, the timbre of her voice just subtly different from moments ago and reaching into the depths of Warlock’s memories. Then she smiled, “Hello, little hellspawn.”

“ _ **Nanny?!**_ ”

“The one and only,” she said. She still hadn’t let go of Warlock’s hand.

Adam grinned, “I told you! Demon! The snake is Crowley too!”

Warlock blinked. “You… Sister black snake? That was you?” Crowley tipped her head down and winked over the tops of her sunglasses. Warlock had only seen Nanny’s sun-gold eyes once and he’d thought they were beautiful. He still thought they were beautiful. “Aw man, I loved sister black snake!”

“She loves you too,” Crowley said. Warlock felt himself tearing up and she pulled him in for a hug. 

She was just as warm as he remembered. He took a steadying breath and inhaled the smells of patchouli, myrrh, wood smoke, coffee, and tobacco, with just the faintest hint of snake musk - the way Nanny had always smelled, punching back into his earliest memories when he was small. Finally he pulled back enough to wipe his eyes. “It’s good to see you again,” he smiled.

“And you,” Crowley said softly. Then she sighed, “What else has Adam told you?”

“He’s told me I was sort of a decoy Antichrist.”

Crowley tipped her head, “Yeah we’ll go with that.” Warlock had been reading Nanny’s face and body language for years. Crowley went over to poke at Aziraphale. Poke poke poke. Poke poke poke poke poke poke. Adam started giggling. Poke poke poke poke poke poke. “You going to wake up soon?” Poke poke poke poke poke. Now Warlock was grinning. 

“For Heaven’s sake, Crowley, _what is it?_ ” Aziraphale snapped, finally looking up to see Crowley grinning at him. 

“’Bout time you came up for air. Your godsons have been here for half an hour,” Crowley teased.

Aziraphale stared blankly for a moment then looked past her and saw Adam grinning behind her, “Oh! Adam!”

“Hi Aziraphale! What’s got you so absorbed?” Adam cast a quick glance at Warlock and stepped forward to peer over Aziraphale’s shoulder. Warlock’s heart melted. 

Nan- Crowley tipped her head at him, “D’you like sushi?”

“I love sushi.”

“C’mon, let’s go get some for take-away for supper,” and she grabbed Warlock’s wrist and led him out.

* * * *

“So,” Warlock said as they walked, “ _Really_ a decoy Antichrist?” A muscle in Nan - _Crowley’s_ cheek twitched, just under her sunglasses. Warlock smiled. “’Cause I’m getting the feeling I was not so much a backup and more like a cockup.” 

Crowley winced. “Mine entirely,” she said at last, “Who knew there’d be two women giving birth at the same Satanic nuns’ hospital on the same night, literally at the same time?”

Warlock grinned, “Yeah. Adam said his mum wasn’t due for another week, so I guess I came early.”

“I was just given the baby and told, swap him out with the American ambassador’s child.” 

Warlock nodded, “Easy mistake to make. Dad wasn’t actually _there_ , he was in the US on Skype. Look, I’m not blaming you. Far from it.”

She sighed and looked away, “How much did we mess you up?”

Warlock barked a laugh, making Crowley wince again. “I was just having this conversation with Adam the other night. You didn’t, Nanny. Crowley, sorry. If anything, I made it through my teens because of you and Brother Francis. That was Aziraphale, I guess?”

“That’s right,” Crowley nodded. She pushed open the door of Aziraphale’s favourite sushi restaurant and ushered Warlock in. She placed an order for an assortment of Aziraphale’s favourites and some sashimi for herself, then they went to a booth to wait. 

Warlock reached across to take her hand. “You didn’t mess me up. My parents did that. Honestly, I can see why they were chosen.” He shook his head, “You were right. Whatever Dad had planned for me, I wasn’t it. I’m bi, I’ve got tattoos, I wear Utilikilts, I like baking… The first time I won a prize for one of my cakes, Dad threw an absolute shit fit and threw it against the wall. Like, what kind of Dad does that? A shite one, that’s what.”

Crowley nodded sympathetically. “Aziraphale would have been right there with a knife and fork and puppy eyes, begging for a slice.”

Warlock grinned, feeling something untwist inside him. “I came back to England and hoped to reconnect with one or both of you somehow. I found Adam instead and it’s been wonderful. We’re getting married but we haven’t set a date yet.”

“I’m ninety-nine per cent certain that two Antichrists getting married didn’t figure into **anybody’s** plans,” Crowley chuckled, “I’m glad you’re happy. It shows.”

Their food arrived. Crowley picked up the packages and they walked back out into the street. “What about you?” Warlock asked.

Crowley shrugged, “Heaven and Hell are off our backs, I get to spend as much time with Aziraphale as I want, which is rather a lot. All the time, really. Practically living in the bookshop now.”

“So, happy?” Warlock smiled knowingly, “I always thought you and Brother Francis should be together.”

The corner of Crowley’s mouth twitched upward, “You thought so, did you.” That was a classic Nannyism and Warlock grinned. Crowley grinned back, “Yeah, happy.” 

She pushed open the door of the bookshop and Warlock followed her inside. This time Aziraphale and Adam came out to greet them. Aziraphale greeted Crowley first with a kiss then, “Warlock!” and he opened his arms wide. 

Warlock fell into them. The face was slightly different and gone was the smell of earth, but everything else - the solid warmth of the hug, the shifting blue eyes, the pale hair, the aromas of vanilla, sandalwood, and frankincense, and the dazzling brilliance of the smile… “Hi Brother Francis! … God I’ve missed you so much!” he whispered, against the pressure of tears. 

“I’ve missed you too, my boy!” Aziraphale pulled back and smiled his dazzling 1000 watt smile that lit up the room and Warlock could well believe that Brother Francis was indeed a genuine angel.

“We brought supper,” Crowley said, holding up the bag.

Aziraphale actually clapped his hands together in delight, “Wonderful! You’re so thoughtful, my dearest.” He took the bag from her with another kiss and turned to take it to the back room. 

“Do you want some help?” Warlock offered.

“Certainly, dear boy!” Warlock followed him and opened the packages while Aziraphale dug out the plates. “Adam says he’s told you quite a bit,” Aziraphale said quietly, “I imagine Crowley’s told you quite a bit more.”

Warlock nodded, “Yeah. But I’m fine with it, really. I’m just glad to see you both again.”

Aziraphale cocked an eyebrow at him, “Really?”

Warlock thought about it, then nodded, “Yeah. Nanny taught me that everyone’s just acting their way through life and everyone’s got a fake face and I found out she was right. You were both right on so many things and they were things that I really needed to know. Like Adam.” He glanced back at the man he loved.

“Adam tells me you’re getting married,” Aziraphale smiled.

Warlock couldn’t help the warm smile that spread over his own face, “Yeah. I’m gonna take his name. I mean, I know that’s kind of weird, given that his parents are my biological parents, so it’s really taking the name I would have had anyways but…” He sighed and shook his head then smiled again, “I wouldn’t have found my way back if not for you, so… I’m fine with it. You were real, even if your names weren’t.”

“Oh but they were,” Aziraphale said, “Ashtoreth is one of Crowley’s names, he was called that a few thousand years ago, if I remember correctly. He’s gone by Coraline since the 1700s, whenever he’s found it more effective to achieve a temptation. And Francis was a very dear friend of mine. Though he got a bit confused one night after he ate some bad rye bread, fell down and skinned his wrists. I’m not sure what his imagination presented me as but it was interesting, to say the least!” 

Warlock laughed. He picked up the plates and carried them out while Aziraphale chose a bottle of junmai daiginju sake to go with it. He went to sit beside Adam, who hugged him and smiled.

Crowley had taken off her sunglasses and was gazing at Aziraphale with undisguised affection, watching him eat, listening to him exclaim about the selections she had made and how thoughtful she was to have made them. She had that look that Warlock loved the most on her and he nudged Adam, who giggled. “They’ve been together for **six thousand years** ,” Adam whispered.

“Hm?” Crowley turned to look at them and her unguarded eyes were soft and sunny and full of love and beautiful. 

“I was just telling Warlock how long you and Aziraphale have been together,” Adam explained, “I doubt we’ll get that long.”

Warlock smiled at his fiance and snugged him, “Yeah but between your mum and dad and my surrogate mom and dad, we’ve got some pretty good role models to make the best of it.”

The sushi really was very good, and when Crowley picked up a slab of salmon sashimi, tipped her head back, and swallowed it whole, Warlock didn’t even blink. 

* * * *

They spent the night at Crowley’s flat in Mayfair and slept soundly on her decadent bed. When Warlock awoke, he found a package on the night table beside him. In it was a t-shirt reading “Antichrist’s Understudy”, which he unfolded immediately, delighted. Something fell out. He reached to pick it up, feeling his eyes stinging.

“Okay, love?” Adam husked, wiping sleep from his eyes, “What is it?”

“It’s Nanny Ashtoreth’s sunglasses. The ones she wore when I was growing up,” Warlock whispered. Fingers trembling, he unfolded them and slipped them on. “How do I look?”

Adam burst into giggles, “You look like Crowley Junior!”

“I’m gonna take that as a compliment!” Warlock grinned. He took them off and folded them again. He set them and the t-shirt back on the night table then turned to hug Adam, hard, “Thanks, babe. I… you don’t know what it means to me, to see them again.”

“Would have been sooner but I didn’t know it was **them** until you showed me your picture,” Adam whispered.

“Yeah,” Warlock said, “It means everything, having them back.”

“They want you back,” Adam said gently, “I talked to Aziraphale while you were out with Crowley.”

“Yeah, thanks for that. We kind of needed to talk.”

Adam nodded, “I figured.”

Warlock was quiet for a few moments, savouring the warmth of his fiance’s arms. “It's like I've come full circle. It feels like everything’s right again.”

Adam kissed him softly. “I’m glad.”


End file.
